


Omegle's Spread

by Fluffy_Ass_Socks (Luxurious_Pixeled_Lullimons)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Omegle, lots of AUs, nsfw at times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1405180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxurious_Pixeled_Lullimons/pseuds/Fluffy_Ass_Socks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Long Collection of Omegle Chats over the past year.</p><p>{If Any of these Strangers are you, please let me know! <3}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of making a series of this, I just decided to make excess chapters and add warnings n such later on.

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!  
You both like Johnlock.

You: Sherlock? You there?-JW

Stranger: Mostly. Why? SH

You: Mostly?...Anyway, can you pick up some milk while you're out?-JW

Stranger: It's going to be awhile. SH

You: May I ask why?-JW

Stranger: I'm...caught up in a case. SH

You: Oh, okay...need help?-JW  
Stranger: Do you have any recreational drugs on hand? SH

You: Ehm, not at the moment. I could probably get some from my pharmacist. Say it's for my limp or something... Any particular kind?-JW  
Stranger: It's not an over the counter drug, John. SH

You: Well, that's a no then. The kind?-JW  
Stranger: Three blocks south from Baker Street, there's a dealer. I don't have the money. Can you get me some? SH

You: A, a dealer? Sherlock, your not stooping down to that.-JW

Stranger: For a case, John. SH

You: Drop the case, Sherlock.-JW

Stranger: Too far in, need more. SH

You: More?! You've..*angry sigh* You've been taking drugs?! Hm?!-JW

Stranger: Yes, GRAND deduction John. Get. Me. More. SH

You: Sherlock! Where are you? I'm coming to get you.-JW

You: Sherlock?!-JW

Stranger: Talk to you later. SH

You: Sherlock, no! Sherlock!-JW

You: (Do you wanna continue or am I boring you? :P)

Stranger: (It's all good, I just don't know where to take this..)

You: (Hmmm, maybe it could be a week from this? Like, Sherlock hasn't come back to 221b yet and John's getting worried when Sherlock randomly texts him. Maybe :P)  
Stranger: (John also knows which dealer Sherlock's going to. He could confront the other?)

You: (Or it could be actual rping with dialogue n all that.)

You: (Okaii So you mean John goes to the dealer to wait for Sherlock and sees him and watches him for a bit. :3)

Stranger: (Yeah! The only thing is I don't know how comfortable you'd be with Sherlock's "other" method of payment.)

You: (Lul Smutty it is, good sir (or ma'am).)

Stranger: (Hey, if you're cool with it, so am I. Shall you start?)

You: (Okaii i'll do the plot . Slow typer >3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same prompt :P

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!  
You both like sherlock.

You: Sherlock? You there?-JW

Stranger: Sherlock looked to his phone, ignoring it for the time being as he continued skimming the web page.

You: Sherlock, please. I know you don't eat much but c'mon.-JW

Stranger: Sherlock sighed and reached for his phone.

What John. -SH

You: Your at 221b, right?-JW

Stranger: Yes, of course. -SH

You: Can you go up into my room and grab the notepad on the desk?-JW

Stranger: Sherlock rolled his eyes getting up from his desk.

Fine. -SH

He trudged up the stairs dragging a blanket behind him. Entering the room he looked around and grabbed the notepad.

You: You have it? Now read me what it says, please-JW ( A Number and an Address for like a store or something :P)

Stranger: Sherlock blinked at the note pad, "I'm not going to type all of this." he snapped a picture of it and sent it to John.

Is that all? -SH

You: Yes, I believe so. Oh, don't look in my wardrobe, please. Thanks.-JW

Stranger: You tell me not to but you know I have to now. -SH  
You: Oh god, Sherlock. Don't be immature!- John types nervously. "Oh god why why..."

Stranger: Sherlock studied the Wardrobe, noticing a few shoe boxes that used to be in it now laying outside of it.

Fine. -SH

Stranger: He bent over lifting the tops of the boxes examining the contents, pictures, old trinkets.

He turned and walked to the door glancing back at the wardrobe.

You: Thanks, knew I could trust you. :)-JW

Stranger: "To an extent." Sherlock said to himself.

No worries, I'll be at the flat waiting. -SH

Overcome with curiosity he walked back over to the wardrobe and opened the doors.  
"Well now..."

You: John continued to buy ingredients for the Creme' Brule' (Idk how to spell >3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to go ;-; But we said our good byes <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same prompt, once again.

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!  
You both like johnlock.

You: Sherlock? You there? JW

Stranger: Yes, John? SH

You: Can you go up into my room and read me the sticky note on my desk? It's an address for a grocery store. JW

Stranger: What do you need a particular grocery for? SH

You: I'm making Creme' Brule' for dinner tonight and I need the address to that store. JW

Stranger: Crème brûlée? Bit fancy, isn't it? SH  
All right. Here's your address. SH

You: I thought you liked 'fancy', Sherlock? JW

Stranger: You never usually cook out of your skill level. SH

You: Excuse me? I can cook fancy things! You just never eat them, so I see no reason why. JW

Stranger: Fair enough. SH

Stranger: I look forward to trying your dessert, then. SH

You: Really? I thought you'd refuse eating dinner. What do you want for a main course? Any drink? JW

Stranger: There's a difference between eating light and actively courting starvation. SH

Stranger: I'll handle the drinks if you sort out the rest. SH

You: Yeah, sure. The way I see it, Sherlock, eating light is basically a snack, close to nothing. You need more energy through out the day, and don't say 'I'll be fine.' JW

Stranger: I am fine. SH

You: No, Sherlock. You may be used to not eating healthy, not to mention your 'no sleeping' habits, but your body still needs it. JW

Stranger: I already agree to have dinner with you, John. SH

You: One meal a day isn't enough, Sherlock. But, thanks for actually trying this time. JW

Stranger: How about we manage through this meal and see where it takes us. SH

Stranger: Placated? SH

Stranger: Also: red or white? SH

You: Whatever you want, Sherlock. JW

Stranger: What pairs best with your mystery main course? SH

You: It's a surprise. I'm assuming if I give you an answer you'll immediately know the main course. JW

Stranger: I'll try and make do, then. Our wine rack is... We haven't got a wine rack. Might as well start a stock. SH

You: You do that. Be there in 40. JW

Stranger: Very well. How do you propose to cook it without me sussing out the surprise, by the way? Or is seeing the ingredient the big reveal in itself, which would be fine. SH

You: I never said I was cooking it at 221B, did I? JW

Stranger: You're really going all out, aren't you. SH

You: Yep. See you soon :) JW

Stranger: Don't do that. Otherwise, I look forward to it. SH

You: Why, whatever do you mean? JW

Stranger: Your... "emoji" or whatever they're called. SH

You: Ah. I'll keep that in mind :) JW

Stranger: John. SH  
Honestly. SH

You: Well you weren't going to do anything. JW

Stranger: Don't make me have to. SH

You: What could you do about it if I per say, egged you on? JW

Stranger: You might find your phone in a very unpleasant place for dessert. SH

You: Sure, Sherlock. See you. JW

Stranger: Yes, John. SH

You: (Forty minutes later) Sherlock, may be a bit late for dinner. JW

Stranger: Not an issue. Is everything all right? SH

You: Yes, yes. JW

Stranger: Very well. SH  
Time frame? Or, of course, there's always takeaway after all. SH

You: (Another Forty minutes later) Can't make it to dinner, sorry. Maybe next time. JW

Stranger: Quite fine. SH

You: Actually, have you checked the locks on the door recently? Lock them. JW

Stranger: John. SH  
What's happened? SH

You: Ill tell you in person, just don't be that shocked. Okay? JW

Stranger: You had better be all right. Now get here. SH

You: Coming JW

Stranger: Good. You won't be locked out. SH

You: (Twenty minutes later) John practically stumbled through the doorway, holding a tissue to his nose. He sank into his armchair slowly, so not to upset the pain even greater on his abdomen.

Stranger: Sherlock had been waiting tensely in the sitting room, much of his time spent pacing the floor, before he heard John's footsteps on the stairs - nothing like his usual steady gait, and already Sherlock knew something was very, very wrong. "Who jumped you, did you see them? Where did it happen?" He asked of John immediately upon glancing his way, unable to keep the questions from flying from his mouth. Whoever was responsible, they would pay for this, in time.

You: "A group of thugs, scum. guess they just wanted a laugh." John wiped a blood droplet away from his cheek. "They were, they were mocking you, Sherlock, calling you awful names. I couldn't help myself from punching him."

Stranger: Sherlock squinted, skeptical of a group of idiots unknowingly going after John of all people with no motive - but there it was, the explanation. "They targeted you because of me," He said factually, somewhat blankly before he was up and getting a flannel to run under the warm tap, back as quickly as he could be to hand it over to John for the blood drying and still dripping.

You: "But it wasn't your fault, Sherlock. It's on me." John dabbed at the cuts with the flannel.

Stranger: "Don't be ridiculous, John. You were unduly provoked," Sherlock replied, flickering eyes surveying John's injuries. "I don't believe your nose is broken, thankfully. How are your ribs?"

You: "Fine, one got me quite good though. I think I'm okay. I'm terribly sorry about dinner. I'll make it for tomorrow."

Stranger: "You're going to be resting tomorrow. The day after a bruising is always worst, when the stiffness settles into the muscles," Sherlock replied, doubting John would be up for much of anything the next day, let alone shopping and a heroic spell in the kitchen. "I'll see to dinner."

You: "Pity," John smiled. "I had such a nice dinner planned." he turned to cough into his sleeve, leaving tiny speckles of blood on his sleeve. "Ungh." He sighed, sliding in his armchair to make him horizontal.

Stranger: Sherlock gave him a small smile, but inwardly felt an disproportionate anger towards whatever dimwitted 'thugs' had their jollies by hurting John, and spoiling the meal he was secretly looking forward to sharing. "We can reschedule," Sherlock assure him. "Can I get you anything? Frozen peas? Hot bath?"

You: "Ah, a bath would be nice, Sherlock. Thanks." John closed his eyes and let his head fall back. He had a soft smile on his face, even if there was pain, he was defending Sherlock, his Sherlock.

Stranger: "Of course," Sherlock nodded. Anything he could do at all, he was more than willing. Which John was no stranger to finding himself in a scrap, he had gotten into this whole mess because of Sherlock.

You: He waited for Sherlock's return after he walked into the bathroom. He heard the water begin to run. He knew he could do this on his own, but what if he fell or something? Oh, who was he kidding himself, he felt safer when Sherlock was around. Despite, you know, he could usually get a gun pointed at both of them, he enjoyed the thought of Sherlock sitting by the bath, waiting for him. What a nice thought...

Stranger: "John," Sherlock called out once he'd gotten the bath situation sorted. Hot water was running, but not too hot. He hadn't added bubbles or any such, not wanting to irritate any of John's possible wounds. "Fancy an escort?" He asked, once back in the living room. Poor phrasing with a somewhat dubious double meaning that he - well, hadn't meant, but he had faith John wouldn't notice anyway. "Might as well slip your shoes off now, then we'll go."

You: "Sure sure." John muttered, removing his shoes. He winced as he reached to pull off his jumper. Did Sherlock see?

Stranger: Sherlock shushed him with an absent wave of his hand as John attempted to undress himself in his chair. "Let's get you to the bathroom, then we'll see to those things. Fair?" He asked, and held out an arm.

You: Yeah," he smiled, taking Sherlock's arm and using his support to walk to the bathroom. He sat on the loo, going for his jumper when Sherlock cut in to help.

Stranger: Right. It would hardly do to be awkward about touch now when it would obviously be irrelevant given how John was in need of assistance. Right? "If you don't mind - "  
Sherlock said, and reached out to interrupt John's painful process of undressing by carefully guiding his arms up, and gradually tugging up on the wool until it could be tossed aside towards the laundry hamper. The bruising was already ghastly, and Sherlock saw just what had happened, painted there for him to see.

You: John sighed. "I'm fine, Sherlock. See?" John gestured with his hands. "Promise." He looked up at Sherlock. "Thanks." He began to unbutton his trousers when he stopped. "You don't mind, do you? Y'know if I, take them off?"

Stranger: "I hardly see how you're going to get into the bath with them," Sherlock replied with a halfhearted shrug before blinking. Oh. "I can go, if you would prefer privacy. But staying isn't a problem, either." He supposed there wasn't really a logical reason to be hanging around like a voyeur, other than that he wanted to. Wanted to help.

You: "It wouldn't be completely horrid to have you stay..." John whispered. "I mean, if you don't want to, like if you're busy, then that's fine too." John smiled up at Sherlock, his piercing blue gaze turned to one of worry.

Stranger: "My evening was free," Sherlock told him, and it wasn't a lie. He'd even changed his experiment schedule given how enthusiastic John had been for that dinner and dessert business. "I'd planned for us to be half pissed on fine wine by now, and sick on crème brûlé." Suddenly realizing just how he'd been smiling down at John, he suddenly blinked. "Well. Get to it," He said, turning away to go fetch a towel and another flannel, instead of staring down at John like some sort of vulture. Terrible.

You: John continued removing articles of clothing until he was bare. A light flush crept across his face and neck as he stepped into the bath. He sighed in pleasure and let the water curl around him lightly. It felt nice, this warm bath. Best part about it was that Sherlock would be staying with him. He thought over how uncomfortable John would feel, if he would get annoyed or bored with John and leave. No, Sherlock wasn't that much of an arsehole. He rolled his shoulders and neck, trying desperately to remove the tension from his body, even with help of the bath.

Stranger: Once Sherlock heard the light slashing of the water's displacement, Sherlock slowly turned back around again, flannel in one hand and a rolled up hand towel in another. "Lift your head a second," He suggested softly, and placed the hand towel like a makeshift pillow between John's neck and the curve of the tub; he knew exactly uncomfortable that spot could be without it.

You: "Thanks." John look up at Sherlock without moving his head. Sherlock looked amazing as always, his ivory skin clashing vividly with the dark suits he always wore. His hair, as untamed and mangled as ever, fit him perfectly. "You wonderful genius, you."

Stranger: "Well, yes," Sherlock replied, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Still yet, you flatter me. It's just a towel, John, and even I can be a creature of comfort from time to time," He rattled off, purposefully trying to keep his eyes to one spot. So much information, much of it new, was available to him now, as John soaked in the water.

You: "You're nervous?" John smiled, "You want to see?" he added cheekily.

Stranger: That observation was certainly cause for alarm. "Nervous?" He questioned, as though offended. "Never."

You: "I was kidding, Sherlock." John chuckled and motioned Sherlock to sit close to him. "Come."

Stranger: Sherlock nearly rolled his eyes, and picked up a towel to lay on the floor beside the tub where he had been invited, and where he sat, grumbling as he tried his best to get comfortable on the cool tile floor. The things he did for John, honestly. But there was no where else in the flat he'd rather be. "Better?"

You: "Yes, Thank you." John placed his hand over Sherlock's on the side of the bath. He couldn't help but stare into those sympathetic eyes John oh so loved.

Stranger: Sherlock spared a moment to place his free hand over John's and gave it a squeeze - a gentle one, given the bruises on the backs of John's knuckles from the punches he had given out earlier. "Quite welcome. ...Perhaps we ought to look into renovating the bathroom. Could use a larger tub," He suggested, only half joking. Would be nice to join him, however possibly inappropriate.

You: John laughed at that, looking over the tub and nodding, "Yeah. We should ask Mrs.Hudson before paying someone to renovate it." He moved his legs up to his chest, over looking the left over space, then panning back to Sherlock's figure. "You could, no, nothing, never mind."

Stranger: "I would squash you," Sherlock supplied, raising an eyebrow. "The whole point of this exercise is for you to relax your battered body, not let me bash you up further." He sighed, rather regretful, and made a mental note to look into this renovation business. "But I'll meet you halfway and admit - it's not that it isn't tempting."

You: John looked back over to Sherlock curiously, obviously not expecting that reaction. "You wouldn't batter me up. I've gone through worse..."

Stranger: Sherlock looked back at him, nearly just as curious. Could they? "You're sure you wouldn't mind? I can just as easily - just stay beside you." He rather intended to.

You: "Whatever you prefer, Sherlock. I don't mind either." Jon nearly blushed at his own words, trying not to annoy Sherlock out of the room.

Stranger: Sherlock huffed, and pulled his hands away from John's to shrug out of his suit jacket. "Doctor's really do make the worst patients, don't they?

You: John smirked and sat up, so to give Sherlock more space as to sit. "It's getting a little cold."

Stranger: "Just call me 'Jeeves'," Sherlock said with a sarcastic roll of his eyes, thought truthfully he found himself not minding at all, waiting on John. He pulled the plug to let out a fair amount of the tepid water, and twisted the hot tap back on so as to fill the tub back up with a more suitable temperature. And, well. John was sitting there, scrunched up and expectant and welcoming. So as the water level rose and grew hotter, he peeled out of his clothes, bit by bit, until he had stripped.

You: John smiled and gestured him to step in. "Come on then, Jeeves." He winked.

Stranger: "I know I've brought this on myself, but any implication of me being your butler is beyond absurd," Sherlock grumbled, although amicably, and steady lowered himself down into the warmth of the water with care. A rather tight fit, he found it, and there was simply no way around going through with this without his legs knocking into John's.

You: "No, not at all," John smirked. "Go on, you can spread out a bit more."

Stranger: "Not at all?" Sherlock scoffed, and settled back against the rim of the tub, and let his legs practically tangle up in John's. It was almost comfortable, sort of. Better than the floor. Far more interesting, too. "You're ridiculous."

You: "The sociopaths of Baker Street." John chuckled.

Stranger: "I don't know where you've arrived at pluralizing that," Sherlock murmured, starting to feel the heat creep into his muscles. Changing out the water first had definitely been a most excellent idea.

You: "It's not a solo act, Sherlock. If you don't mind, I'd like to join in."

Stranger: "What on earth are you talking about? You're - well, a little pathological. But you're overwhelmingly good."

You: "So are you." John whispered.

Stranger: "Stupid me," Sherlock said with a frown, half comically. "I never thought to check you for concussion."

You: "I don't, I don't have a consussion. I'm a Doctor, you know? I'm being serious. You are good, in a sense. You're bloody brilliant, you're unbelievably blunt with people, and yet, even after all the criticism, you're still you.... My Sherlock." John smiled brightly.

Stranger: Sherlock stared forward a moment, blinking and curiously blank for a split second. "Part of that may possibly be true," He allowed, as arguing in the bath seemed a thing that would be deemed as Not Good. "My John would never classify as a sociopath."

You: "My Sherlock wouldn't be this calm in a situation like this. Probably reciting quantum physics by now. Or even just bored of me, wouldn't be surprised." John sighed almost disappointed, as if Sherlock would walk out solely because of his comment.

Stranger: At that, Sherlock tilted his head curiously, frowning ever more. He was often bored, yes, and highly frustrated as a result, but bored /of/ John was another matter entirely. "I haven't been this not-bored in three weeks," He confessed. And could probably go back even further, but there had been those severed heads... What could possibly be more enthralling now to be sharing a bath with John, who needed looking after. Not that Sherlock was really the most qualified individual, but he felt compelled to give his best.

You: "Well, I'm officially surprised." John shifted, miraculously leaning in closer to Sherlock, not seeming to notice. "You sure you're comfortable? Want me to move little?"

Stranger: "Well, we could - " Sherlock started, the answer to their cramped positions seeming obvious. Though...intimate. "Might be a little cozy, though. I'm sure there are limits on that sort of thing." Regretfully.

You: "I wouldn't mind..." John muttered. "I'm a little cold by myself over here." Leaning in even closer to Sherlock, "I think I'm done with our bath."

Stranger: "We could move somewhere with a little more leg room," Sherlock supplied, his voice quiet and terribly low, completely without his permission. But John did things for him.

You: "Yes, indeed." John began to get up, forgetting his lack of clothing, and grabbing a nearby towel. Not before Sherlock can catch an accidental glance, of course.

Stranger: There was far more than a glance, and Sherlock hadn't even meant to be catching a sneaky look, but of course his doctor and soldier would have no qualms with being bare. It was a little more than breathtaking, if he were honestly, and a few seconds too slow, he stood up from the water to follow, draining the tub and grabbing a towel.

You: John dried his hair, then tied the towel around his waist. The action of his hair drying caused it to stick up in awkward places. He tried desperately to mat it down, to no avail. Sighing, he turned to the door and sauntered into the living room, plopping down on his arm chair. "Don't mind me, I'll go get dressed in a little bit." John muttered.

Stranger: Sherlock had halfway dried himself before shrugging into one of his dressing gowns and following John along into the sitting room. Once there he paused a moment before taking any action, as John seemed quite content to sit in his chair as usual, with little left to the imagination. He looked fantastic as such - his scuffle with thugs earlier in the evening, though deplorable, only seemed to heighten that... desirable ruggedness about John that typically hid itself away, though only ever just below the surface. "Right. Tea?" Sherlock offered, instantly regretting the words before they had even actually flown out of his mouth. Good god, he had never done that; the natural order of things was always just the other way around.

You: "If you don't mind, please? I don't want to take advantage of you, really I don't."

Stranger: "Don't be preposterous," Sherlock scoffed, and headed towards the kitchen, secretly thankful for an easy out. John hadn't made a butler joke, so there was that. Though on the other hand, it was terribly pathetic how very much Sherlock would rather he took advantage. "I run a science lab in my spare time. I can manage a kettle."

You: "I think you're perfectly capable of that, it's just. No, nothing, sorry. I must be a right cock, eh?" John chuckled.

Stranger: "What on earth are you blathering about over there?" Sherlock asked, softly curious despite his choice of words as he stirred John's mug, making his tea just as sweet and milky as he could. John usually took it straight, but he knew that whenever he was feeling poorly or up in the middle of the night, he'd opt for a more luxurious brew. He wagered this might be one of those times.

You: "Nothing? Was I talking? Sorry, ignore me." John replied.

Stranger: "John," Sherlock chastised, carrying two steaming mugs to their respective chair-side tables. "You ought to tell me what the matter is, so that I may tell you what an idiot you're being and how it's fine. And it will be. Promise."

You: "Nothing's wrong? Other than my arse getting whooped, I'm all fine." He thanked Sherlock for the tea and sipped at it cautiously, so not to burn his tongue. He sighed and closed his eyes as the tea warmed him from the inside, satisfying his needs, for now. "Really, you don't have to worry so much."

Stranger: "I don't worry," He replied, taking his seat and stretching out. All lies, of course.

You: "Ah, of course you don't because 'The Great Sherlock Holmes' has nothing to worry about." He said with sarcasm dripping from his words. A smile tugged at his lips.

Stranger: "Naturally," Sherlock replied with ease, controlling his own urge for a grin. "Glad to see you're finally beginning to learn something." This was good, banter was good. Much more familiar.

You: "There's my Sherlock." John said with a grin. 

You have disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy end! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same prompt again :P

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!  
You both like Johnlock.

You: Sherlock? You there?-JW

Stranger: Yes, John?-SH

You: Can you go up into my room and read me a sticky note on my desk? It's an address for a super market.- JW

Stranger: I suppose.-SH 

You: Thanks, and you only have my permission to read the note! Don't snoop around again!- JW

Stranger: Would you like me to text you the address?-SH

You: Yeah, sure.- JW

Stranger: It's the yellow one, correct?-SH

You: Yes, should be. Really, Sherlock, I mean it.- JW

Stranger: Your desk is oddly cluttered up here.-SH

Ah!-SH

[address]-SH

You: Sherlock, promise me you won't look around.-JW

Stranger: John, I've already technically have as I do have eyes.-SH

You: You know what I mean. Thanks for the address.-JW

Stranger: Why so vehement this evening?-SH

Something up here that is out of the norm?-SH

You: Just don't want another incident like last time, it's my personal stuff!-JW

Stranger: Oh, so no indexing your pants?-SH

You: No! Sherlock!-JW

Stranger: You have been doing better with your socks you know.-SH

You: Sherlock, stop snooping around!-JW

Stranger: I'm not. I'm asking permission. Of a sort.-SH

You: Permission denied.-JW

Stranger: Tetchy. Not as if I'll set the room alight.-SH

You: John glanced through his memories, checking to see if he'd locked his wardrobe. No luck. Well, maybe Sherlock wouldn't be that thorough... 

Okay, fine. You better be out by the time I'm there.-JW

Stranger: I will.-SH

You: Be home in forty.-JW

Stranger: Sherlock went to the lower exterior draw and opened it smiling to himself

Yes, yes.-SH

You: (About forty minutes later) Coming, be there in five.-JW

Stranger: Sherlock had re-indexed mostly everything, pleased he opened the doors of the ages wardrobe and stopped.

John?-SH

You: Hm?-JW

Stranger: What's this in with the clothing?-SH

I've not opened it.-SH

You: _Sherlock_. Don't you dare.-JW

Stranger: Just... It's... -SH

You: Sherlock. No.-JW

Stranger: The box, John. Is it from Afghanistan?-SH

You: {no reply}

Stranger: The work on it... it's amazing.-SH

I'm still not opening it... just curious.-SH

You: Sherlock, get out of there.-JW

John blushed at Sherlock's words. He'd never thought Sherlock would like his 'artistic skills'.

Stranger: But John, honestly. This should be out somewhere.-SH

You: No, it's...bad. It's at least four years old.-JW

Stranger: This... is _bad_? Meaning you have others that are _better_? Where is it from.-SH

I cannot figure it.-SH

You: I made it out of spare wood from remainders of an old army base. I just painted on it 'n all.-JW

Stranger: You? Why does this surprise me? It shouldn't you are very good with your hands and all.-SH

Where are the rest?-SH

You: I...I either threw them away, gave them to my other mates, or they burnt when our base had got air-raided.-JW

Stranger: Oh.-SH

You haven't since?-SH

You: No, it's a useless skill to have. I mean, when would i need to make wooden boxes and paint them?-JW

Stranger: For the craftsmanship?-SH

That would be as if you asked me why do I play?-SH

You: For what audience? We hardly have any guests. Mrs. Hudson may give a compliment or two but, other than that, no one would really care.-JW

Stranger: For yourself. For me.-SH

I'd appreciate having one.-SH

You: You? Oh, hah hah, Sherlock.-JW

But if you want, you can have that one, it's a bit dusty though.-JW

Stranger: This... it has meaning for you. Wouldn't you rather make a different one?-SH

You: Well, I'd need the supplies. If your fine with letting dinner be a little late, I'll go get them?-JW

Stranger: Yes, perfectly fine. It's only Tuesday.-SH

You: Okay. See you in maybe thirty minutes.-JW

Stranger: Yes, good. Thank you, John.-SH

You: (About an hour later) Coming! I got a double set so we can both make them! If you'd like?-JW

Stranger: Alright. Could be interesting.-SH

You: See you!-JW

Stranger: Got the kettle on.-SH

You: (Five minutes later) John walks in, smiling casually at Sherlock and putting both bags down in the kitchen. "Here we are." John turned to see Sherlock had placed the box as a centerpiece for their table. "What's this doing out?'

Stranger: "I told you, John. It should be displayed." Sherlock looked almost uncertain, but hid it decently. Or so he thought.

You: John sighed, showing his masked irritation. "Must you? It's horrid, I mean, the colors..." he walked over to the table to lightly glide his fingers along an edge.

Stranger: "It's a part of you... a thing of beauty from all the destruction you witnessed." Sherlock raised his eyebrow before steeping his tea. "May we keep it out?"

You: John sighed again, but with a smile. "The things I do for you." John said, sitting in a chair by the table. "Shall we start?"

Stranger: Sherlock sat in the chair opposite. "So, what do I do?"

You: "Here." John pulled the pre-made contents from the box. He set the brushes and paint aside. He gave a set to Sherlock. "Show me how you think it should be. Rough outline."

Stranger: Sherlock looked at the box for a few long moments before using the pencil to recreate the whorls of Starry Night; well not exactly true but the light sketch over the wood reminded him of it.

You: "Wow, amazing... Anyway," John continued, "I'll glue the base down and shave it a bit so it looks a little better." John said, gluing the basics down and sanding it carefully. He handed it back to Sherlock. "You can paint it now."

Stranger: Sherlock began on his, turning it ultraviolet and aubergine; tiny squares of colour interlocking to look as if it were woven from the cosmos. He'd peek glances from time to time towards John's progress.

You: John nodded, staying silent so not to disrupt Sherlock's concentration. "Oh here," John whispered, placing Sherlock's hands in his own. He flicked Sherlock's wrist upwards and completed a perfect curve.

Stranger has disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN LEAVE MEH D:


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet again, don't be surprised :L

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!  
You both like Sherlock.

You: Sherlock? You there?-JW

Stranger: Yes. -SH

You: Can you go up to my room and read me the sticky note on my desk? It should be an address to a super market. -JW

Stranger: But that's soooooo far, John. -SH

You: I need it for dinner, Sherlock! I'm making Crème brûlée. -JW

Stranger: Jooooooohn. All the way in your room? -SH

You: Yes, all the way in my room. Please? -JW

Stranger: Fine. I've gotten it. -SH

You: Can you type it then? -JW

Stranger: It's 564 E. Maine St. -SH

Approximately 8 miles from Baker St. - SH

You: Great, thanks for the much needed extra info. Be back in 40 minutes. -JW

Stranger: 40 minutes? -SH

You: Considering the time it'll take me to get to the store, get the ingredients, grab a taxi, and get back, yes. Minus the rile I could have with the self check out.- JW

Stranger: All I'm saying is to hurry. -SH

You: It's not like you're gonna eat it, you never do. but if you will, then yes, i'll try thirty. - JW

Stranger: Frankly, I'm not hungry. And it's not the food I will be missing, it's the presence of another person. - SH

You: You? Sherlock, have you been taking drugs again? You're not supposed to be...- JW

Stranger: I have not been 'taking drugs again.' Frankly, I thought you would appreciate the somewhat voicing of my opinion not related to cases occasionally. -SH

You: You actually want me around? I'm quite frankly, shocked. -JW

Stranger: Your presence can be desired my multiple people simultaneously, you are that of a likeable person. -SH

You: I'm glad you see me that way. And hey, your kind of likable around some people. -JW

Stranger: I could quite possibly be singlehandedly the most intolerable person ever, around any crowd. -SH

I do not understand which people you are referring to. But enlighten me, please, I wish to meet these people you say I am "likable around." -SH

You: Don't be so hard on yourself. Give me a couple minutes, but I warn you, my mind is slower than snail mail so I may not have one. Really, Sherlock, there are some people. -JW

Stranger: Because there are none, John. -SH

If there were others, I would not be so bothered by your parting from our flat and anxious of your return. -SH

You: I can think of a small group. -JW

Stranger: If you'd be so kind, do tell me. -SH

You: Greg, Molly, Mycroft, the woman... Irene I believe, and...well...me. -JW

Stranger: Greg does not care. I am a source that he can use to maintain his employment. -SH

You: Trust me, he cares. -JW

Stranger: Molly is only infatuated with me, a 'crush' people may call it. -SH

You: She likes you as a friend as well. -JW

Stranger: Irene...is simply nosy, getting into business that is not her own, including me. -SH

You: I know you both had a little 'thing' for each other, at the time. Or maybe still? -JW

Stranger: John. It was merely a one-sided (being her side) sort of twisted kind of 'love' (as they like to call the chemical reaction within us). -SH

You: Ah, okay...Well?-JW

Stranger: Well what? -SH

You: Aren't you going to tell me why I don't like you so I can correct you? -JW

Stranger: ...You nearly broke my nose after I had reintroduced myself after my 'death.' -SH

You: What do you expect? That I'd lovingly jump into your arms and praise you with compliments, kissing you all over? -JW

Stranger: I did save your life, John. -SH

A thank-you would have done nicely. -SH

You: ...Thank you, Sherlock, really. But next time, drop me a line or two? And there better not be a next time! -JW

Stranger: You know I couldn't. -SH

And, I... I apologize for my inconvenience to you. -SH

You: ...Apology accepted.-JW

Stranger: I never meant to get into such depth with Moriarty and I hadn't realized you had... cared so much. -SH

You: Of course I do. You're my best mate. I don't want to know what would happen to me if I lost you again. -JW

Stranger: Well I am not planning on leaving anytime soon. -SH

Unfortunately you are stuck with me. -SH

You: I see nothing unfortunate about it. -JW

Stranger: You would be the first. -SH

You: Does that make me special? -JW

Stranger: If you would prefer to put it in those specific terms, then yes. -JW

You are special. -SH

You: I'm outside, you kept me texting all through out shopping. See you in a sec. -JW

Stranger: Fine, I shall. -SH

You: John trudged up the stairs to their flat, opening the door with a couple free fingers, then pushing it open with his shoulder. "Honey, I'm home!" John teased.

Stranger: Sherlock laid on the couch, and had seemingly not moved at all since John left. He turned his head sharply towards the shorter, blond-haired man, and narrowing his green eyes. "Forty-two minutes and twenty four seconds. You said you would attempt to be back in thirty." Sherlock blinked, before rolling over and sighing.

You: "Wasn't my fault you kept delaying me with your elaborate texts." John walked into the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter, flicking on the stove and putting the pot on the flame. "Red or white wine?"

Stranger: "Hardly elaborate." Sherlock called out in a slightly annoyed tone. "We have food here already, I don't understand why you didn't just stay." He snapped, before pausing a fraction of a moment and calling out quietly, "Red, if you would please." Sherlock sat up on the couch, rubbing his eyes and yawning, running his slender fingers through his mess of curls atop of his head.

You: "I wanted to make something special, you know, since you've been back awhile and I've been too angry to make it any other day." John pulled the tall glass bottle of red wine out from a bag and placed it on the table, preparing two glasses. 

Stranger has disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAI D:


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Different prompt! <3

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!  
You both like Johnlock, and Sherlock.

You: “Sherlock!” John exclaimed from the door, dropping his groceries. Sherlock, wearing nothing but his long black coat, turned to John and smiled. “Ah John, I’m out of clean clothes today. You really should do laundry sooner, next time.” He said, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. (You can be John or Sherlock, idc <3)

Stranger: John stopped in his tracks, then looked away quickly. "You have clothes! At least close your coat!" He stepped quickly into the kitchen to set down the groceries.

You: "I suggest you check again." Sherlock said, gesturing to the empty laundry basket in a corner. "I believe your sources are incorrect. Close my coat? Why ever so?"

Stranger: John turned to look at the basket, "Right. I'll clean some clothes." He said. Knowing that Sherlock would rather walk around in a sheet than do his own laundry. "Close your coat, it's rude to have it open." His cheeks clearly flushed.

You: "Rude? I am in the confinements of my own home. Unless you see it as horrifying," Sherlock ended with a murmur. He folded the coat over his body so that only his face and legs appeared from it. "Hurry, it's cold."

Stranger: John began with the laundry. Coming back a second later and handing Sherlock some clothes, "I bought these to donate. But if you want to, you can wear them in the mean time." He handed them down on the table. Then went to sit in his own chair. Looking at a paper .

You: Sherlock scowled at the utterly dull clothes. "No, it's out of the question."

Stranger: John rolled his eyes. And looked at him, ""Laundry is almost done. Don't worry." He said slightly irritated. "I should take mines off if it's Rude Day." He joked.

You: "Indeed, you should, since your clothes are alarmingly identical to these." He gestured with a finger, not a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "I'm still cold." Sherlock got up and began pacing the room.

Stranger: John smiled at the comment. He looked up at Sherlock got up, his coat opening again, and his cheeks flushed. Looking back down at the paper.

You: Sherlock stopped momentarily before turning rapidly back to John. "Case, did you find one yet?" he waltzed over to John, his coat in a flurry behind him. "Tell me!"

Stranger: John tried to look at anywhere but him. "Why are you shouting!" He couldn't saw Sherlock's open coat again and his cheeks flushed again. "There's.. None you'll be interested in!"

You: Sherlock huffed, letting a long breath out of his nostrils. He sat himself down on an arm of John's chair. "I'm bored." he muttered, closing his coat again, the draft in this place...

Stranger: "Find something else to occupy your time with." He muffled. He heard the machine go off and he stood up, before walking he looked at Sherlock, "You want something to occupy your mind with?" He leaned in and kissed him quickly before walking off to the laundry.

You: Sherlock, mind reeling, fell back into John's armchair as he rose and walked off to the laundry. John had kissed him. /Kissed/ him. Dear god. No, it was for Sherlock, so he wouldn't get bored. That was it. He furrowed his brow in thought.

Stranger: John came back a second later, "It's in the dryer." He sighed. He saw Sherlock in his chair and took the chair opposite of him. He smiled as he saw the confused look on his face. He nodded and picked up a book. It was to shut him up, but.. He quite liked it?

You: Sherlock went over all the logical explanations, the stone cold facts, it all led back to, John had /kissed/ him. He steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, deep in thought.  
Stranger: John smiled at himself for puzzling Sherlock. When he heard the machine go off, he stood up and before leaving again, he kissed him again.

You: Sherlock nearly doubled over, this time he watched John walk to the laundry room. /Again./ John kissed him /again/. It was no proper accident. Not at all. But... Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut. "What?" he muttered, almost to himself, but loud enough for John to hear.

Stranger: John hear his 'What?' But didn't say anything. He came back to the chair, picking up his book. "Clothes are in your room if you'd like to change." He wanted to confuse Sherlock, but now he was tempted to kiss him again.

You: Sherlock paused, wavering for a couple moments before pushing off the chair and walking over to his room, but not before stealing a small kiss from John as well. He wanted to play this game? So be it.

Stranger: John looked up, and was completely shocked by the kiss. Did this mean anything, or did he think he was just being clever? He stood up and walked to Sherlock's room, "Sherlock?"

You: Sherlock was in the process of removing his coat when John walked in. "What's the thing you said about privacy all those times?" Sherlock said, removing his coat and throwing it onto his crowded bed. "Yes? What is it?"

Stranger: John stopped in his tracks and looked up. "You left your door open and yet it won't stop you from changing!" He couldn't help but smile just a bit. "That kiss. What was it?"

You: "I might ask the same of you." Sherlock smirked, reaching over to grab his white under shirt.

Stranger: "I actually, quite liked it." He said, though still not looking at him.

You: Sherlock pushed his head through the opening of his shirt. "Yes, yes, How i do love your opinions." Sherlock turned to John, "But why?" he turned back and reached for his trousers.

Stranger: John didn't say anything for a while. "I don't know. Probably because I fancy you." He muttered nervously. "I'm being odd, forget that. I'll go make some tea." He regretted even talking and started to leave.

You: "John," Sherlock finished with his trousers, walking over quickly to catch John before he left, hugging him from behind.

Stranger: John stopped in tracks. Not knowing what to do. "Sherlock?" He asked as his hands went to touch Sherlock's.

You: Sherlock tightened his hold around John's chest. "Hm?" He whispered into John's ear.

Stranger: John turned his head to look at Sherlock's face. He kissed his cheek, he now knew what this meant. Sherlock didn't have to say anything. The hold on him said everything clearly.

You: Sherlock nuzzled his cheek into John's shoulder. "Tea, yes." Sherlock wavered, not wanting to remove himself from John's warmth.

Stranger: John slowly turned, so he could face Sherlock. He hugged him tightly, and kissed him quickly. "Tea sounds good."

You: A smile played at Sherlock's lips as he nodded and back away from John's grasp, turning to retrieve his suit top.

Stranger: John went to the kitchen and started with the tea. He smiled as he saw Sherlock enter the kitchen. Slowly going to him again.

You: Sherlock was still a bit concerned with the general fact of John's ego presenting itself with 'I'm not gay' but it never came. He watched John sit at the table beside him. Sherlock gave a small smile, turning his head to John.

Stranger: John waited for the tea, and turned to look at him. "How is this.. Going to work?" He asked cautiously. He wasn't gay. He'd only ever fancied women. But Sherlock was the exception.

You: "I can see three possibilities so far, One being this will end horribly with you storming off and never coming back because of something I do, Two: This could end happily, ignoring the facts and going back to consulting criminal and blogger, Three: This could be a very interesting night."

Stranger: John thought for a moment. "I already know what you can do. All the annoying, rude, and hurtful things you can and are capable of doing. Yet I'm still here. I'd like for us to.. Be more than what we were. But if you don't, I'll understand."

You: Sherlock thought about this for along while, coming to a conclusion. He scooted his chair over to John's pressing against him in a light hug. "I'd be lost without my blogger." Sherlock mumbled from the reaches of John's shoulder.

Stranger: John hugged him back, but didn't know what it meant. It was either the second or first conclusion. But he didn't say anything more. He stood up and served the tea.

You: Sherlock nodded in a light 'thank you' ,sipping occasionally. After a couple minutes of silence, Sherlock asked, "John, did I do it right?"

Stranger: "I'm still confused at what you want. But I don't want to pressure you. Do you just want to stay blogger and detective?" He asked as he sipped his tea after.

You: "I wouldn't despise a bit more than just 'blogger and detective', but, how do you go about it?"

Stranger: John leaned in and kissed him quickly. "I like the idea. You just had to say so."

You: Sherlock furrowed his brow again. "John, either you're not understanding me or you're avoiding it. I would /love/ to continue in this," he gestured. "but I don't know how." Sherlock blushed lightly.

Stranger: "Right. Well, we don't have to change anything really. From our lives. Just try to show more affection, and I won't deny my gay status or go on dates. As for.. When the time comes, I'll teach you."

You: "Can you teach me now?" Sherlock breathed, closing in on John's ear and nibbling at it.

Stranger: John's cheeks flushed, "Are you certain? I want you to be absolutely certain." He took his hand.

You: "Obviously," Sherlock murmured. "Am I supposed to do that too?" Sherlock pointed at John's flush cheeks.

Stranger: He couldn't help but smile, "No, that's not something I can control. Or something you have to do." He pulled him to his room. "Just do anything that feels right." He whispered and kissed him.

You: Sherlock viewed the room, eyes stopping on the bed. "Is the bed good?"

Stranger: "It's ideal." He smiled. "I've only ever been with women before. So we'll learn together."

You: "Are women not nearly the same?" Sherlock asked, sitting on the bed side.

Stranger: "I don't know." He said honestly. He sat on the bed as well, kissing him again.

You: Sherlock shuddered, a spine tingling chill running trough his body. "Would it be ideal to lay down? And I've heard of a 'top' and 'bottom'. Where does that come in?"

Stranger: "Yes." He nodded, slightly pushing him to lay down as he straddled him. "You're on the bottom now. Understand?" He kissed him quickly and started with the buttons of his shirt.

You: "How alarmingly obvious. Why are you undoing the buttons? I just put them on."

Stranger: He smiled, "It's ideal." He simply said, continuing to unbutton his shirt and after, took off his jumper and shirt.

You: Sherlock's eyes raked over John's chest, slightly more toned than a normal humans. Military training, obviously. Tanned from Iraq, though it did puzzle him when John would take off his shirt in a war field. He reached out to put a hand over John's belly, pulling back and remembering 'manners' or 'personal space'.

Stranger: "No. It's fine." He whispered, putting Sherlock's hand back on, "Don't think of personal space." He kissed him quickly, feeling his chest. It was lean and muscular. He started with his own belt.

You: Sherlock's blush was prominent on his cheeks, slowly extending down his neck. "Does.....it...hurt?" he whispered.

Stranger: John looked at him, he knew what Sherlock thought. Everyone is worried their first time. "Sometimes. But I won't hurt you. Promise." He whispered. Kissing his cheek. "If you would prefer to do this later, I understand."

You: "Nonsense, John. I am fairly capable." Sherlock let a smile escape his lips. "Proceed."

Stranger: "Alright." He continued with his own trousers, then started with Sherlock's trousers. "You can still ask questions if you'd like." He said as they were both finally exposed. Letting Sherlock and him take in the moment.

You: Sherlock's eyes continued to skim John's body as he asked, "How many, before me? As in, how many people have you done before me." Sherlock added.

Stranger: John took in the sight of Sherlock and smiled. His smile quickly went away at the question. He didn't want to answer, but he knew he had to someday. "Um, about 10. I think."

You: Sherlock looked shocked at the answer. "10? You think? Were you drunk on some occasions?"

Stranger: "Three when I was a teenager. Three when I was in the military. Four since I came back. But.. Yes, there were some occasions where I was drunk and something might have occurred with two or three other women."

You: Sherlock looked a bit disappointed. "Aren't you bored of it yet?"

Stranger: John started to look ashamed, "Not in the moment. But if I think about how it didn't mean anything, I do feel empty. But I mean this with you."

You: Sherlock looked up at John, reaching out so his fingertips touched John's cheek. It was quite awkward, but Sherlock's way of comfort. "Don't look at me like that."

Stranger: "I'm sorry." He whispered. He put his hand over Sherlock's hand and kissed his cheek. He smiled, "You can still ask questions. But.. Ready?"

You: Sherlock sucked in a breathe, nodding in one curt 'yes'. He skimmed his mind for other questions he could ask. "Would you have rather been shot in the shoulder or have not met me?" Sherlock muttered, Oh god, he shouldn't have spoken.

Stranger: John stared at him, unexpected question. He looked at the Mark on his shoulder, "I would rather been shot in the shoulder, than to have never met you." He smiled and started rocking his hips. His rubbing slowly against Sherlock's.

Stranger has disconnected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad ending ;-;


	7. Chapter 7

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!  
You both like Johnlock.

You: “Sherlock!” John exclaimed from the door, dropping his groceries. Sherlock, wearing nothing but his long black coat, turned to John and smiled. “Ah John, I’m out of clean clothes today. You really should do laundry sooner, next time.” He said, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. (You can be John or Sherlock, idc <3)

Stranger: John looked over at him. "Christ, Sherlock, you could've at least put on your dressing gown," he scolded, averting his eyes.

You: "It's dirty as well." Sherlock gestured in the general direction of the laundry room. "Go finish the laundry now?"

Stranger: John rolled his eyes, "Yeah, just let me put the groceries away first while you sit on your lazy arse."

You: Sherlock glared at John momentarily before retreating back into his mind palace. "Some tea would be lovely." he muttered.

Stranger: John turned to face him. "Maybe I should just let you sit there completely naked with no tea and no food. Make your own damn tea," he muttered.

You: "Grumpier than usual, is it something to do with your little quarrel with the self-check-out machine, again?"

Stranger: "No, it's got to do with you just sitting there all the time while I work," he said.

You: "I work." Sherlock pouted. "It's just easier for me."

Stranger: "You work but you don't do anything around the flat," he accused.

You: "Work around the flat is /boring/. Cleaning, cooking, folding your underwear in correct order, it's all just so /dull/." Sherlock replied.

Stranger: "Mm, so you leave me to do twice the load," he answered.

You: "You could stand it," he said with a wave of his hand. "Imagine me, doing /laundry/. I can think of four ways It would end in catastrophe. Then again, it would be quite exciting..."

Stranger: John rolled his eyes and put away the groceries. "Yeah, alright," he mumbled.

You: "Two sugars please." Sherlock mumbled, putting complete focus into his mind palace once more.

Stranger: John made his tea how he liked it before setting it in front of him. "Let me go work on the laundry, sir," he said sarcastically.

You: "Formalities suggest sarcasm." Sherlock nodded as John left for the laundry room as a way of thanks. "Ah, don't use the microwave for the next twenty-three hours. Under any circumstances."

Stranger: John sighed and came out. "Why? What did you do?"

You: "Nothing for immediate alarm." Sherlock mumbled. "Get back to your laundry doings."

Stranger: "Nothing for immediate alarm," he repeated under his breath and finished the laundry. "Alright, now tell me why I can't use my own microwave?"

You: "It belongs to neither of us, but if you must know. I was working with the left over human eyes, blue irises to be exact, when I thought, "What happens if you mixed blue and brown eyes in snake venom and sulfuric acid? Those combined need a little heat to register my boiling point of choice. A slight miscalculation can lead to disastrous radio activity." Sherlock concluded, smiling to himself.

Stranger: John clenched his jaw. "You know what? I'm done. I've had enough of this," he said, finally. He was past his breaking point with Sherlock now.

You: "Done? My John, this is much more temperate than some other things I had in mind." Sherlock trailed off, thinking for the mayhem he could've caused.

Stranger: John huffed and went to the sitting room. "I mean I'm done. I'm moving out."

You: "What?" Sherlock seemed alarmed and looked at John, a hint of worry behind his eyes.

Stranger: "I said I am leaving. I am going to move out because I'm done with all of this bloody nonsense," he said.

You: "John, I- don't be rash..." Sherlock was prepared to jump up and grab John at any sign of movement.

Stranger: John shook his head. "Sherlock, I've put up with this for years. I am a grown man that launders his flat mate's clothes."

You: Sherlock studied to John to see if it was a bluff or not. The answer turned him paler than he already was. "I-John, we..."

Stranger: John shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I just can't keep living here."

You: "Please," Sherlock stood and moved over to were John was sitting, wrapping the coat around his outline. "I'll, I-''

Stranger: "You'll what? Pretend you'll actually help with anything around here until I'm not angry anymore?" he challenged.

You: "If that will convince you to stay," Sherlock leaned over John, his shins pressed up against John's. "I'll even try to help with some fairly interesting things."

Stranger: John shook his head. "You are an arsehole."

You: "Please?" Sherlock practically sat on John, wrapping his arms around John's neck in a light grasp and nuzzling his cheek into John's shoulder. "I'll do anything around the flat, any chores, any errands."

Stranger: John tensed up. "Sherlock, you're naked, get off of me," he said, even though he made no move to push him away.

You: "If I do, will you still get your things and leave? Because it's an indefinite no if so." Sherlock snuggled closer to John, John's wooly Jumper tickling his belly.

Stranger: John sighed. "Can't you just help me around here once in a while? I'm doing everything by myself," he said.

You: "What else do you need to do?" Sherlock asked like an eager puppy at John's absent suggestion of 'I'm still leaving, piss off.'

Stranger: John bit his lip. "I need to make dinner. And mop the kitchen floor," he answered.

You: "I'll do that for the rest of the week, and laundry and I won't do experiments and," Sherlock listed off almost everything he had seen John doing in the past.

Stranger: John smiled lightly up at him. "Alright, yes, just- go put on some clothes," he said.

You: "Yes, yes." Sherlock replied, but made no move to get up, even nuzzling his nose deeper into John's neck. He smelled nice...

Stranger: Carefully putting his hand on his side, John laughed. "You're not going to get dressed, are you?"

You: Sherlock hummed in agreement and breathed out on John's neck. Warm, so warm...

Stranger: John traced his finger up Sherlock's lean body. He was able to count his ribs. "I- should go work on dinner," he said.

You: "Not hungry," Sherlock mumbled, "but I'll help." Sherlock got up hesitantly and strode over to the laundry room. "Be with you momentarily."

Stranger: John nodded and readjusted his pants. He sighed and shook his head. That weren't normal for flatmates, but Sherlock was trying to make John stay so it were alright.

You: Sherlock sauntered into the kitchen moments later, wearing his typical black suit, no tie. He sniffed the air and immediately processed their dinner. "Linguine with Crème   
brûlée for desert? Why so fancy tonight?" Sherlock glided over the the stove, watching the bubbling of the substance in the pot.

Stranger: John had started cooking and blushed, "I don't know, just decided that's what I want," he answered.

You: "You mean we?" Sherlock smirked as John's blush deteriorated. "I'll do with the Crème brûlée."

Stranger: John grabbed some plates and silverware out of the kitchen. "Good," he answered, still tongue tied from earlier.

You: "Mhmm." Sherlock let the scents drift into his mind, blurring his thoughts for a couple moments before dismissing it. "I didn't know you knew how to make it."

Stranger: John shrugged, "Isn't so hard. My mum used to do a lot of cooking," he explained.

You: "She has impeccable taste, as do you." A smile leaked onto Sherlock's face, swiping a finger across it and putting it in his mouth. "Two half spoons of sugar should do it."

Stranger: John blushed and looked down again. "It's alright, I told you I'm saying. You don't need to keep buttering me up."

You: "I'm not 'buttering you up'. You're way to slippery already, in figurative speak." He said, dumping the spoonfuls of sugar into the pot, mixing slowly.

Stranger: John laughed, "Yeah, alright. Just don't make it too sweet," he answered.

Stranger has disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, it ended nicely, I got her contact infos o3o


	8. Chapter 8

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!  
You both like Sherlock.

You: Sherlock whined, pressing a damp tissue to a cut forming on his lower lip. Anderson’s crew got him good today. In the washroom, of all places. He checked the gash on his arm, stopped bleeding. The black eye was making it hard to see, sadly. (Teenlock? :D Sherlock’s 14 in this, mine being John? <3)

Stranger: Where are you? JW

You: Sherlock ignored the text for the time being, beginning to dab at a cut on his brow.

Stranger: Sherlock? I've been waiting for over an hour JW

You: Sherlock sighed and answered with, 'Anderson got me good this time. Might be a bit late for our little outing. Wait at your house. I'll be there sometime.- SH'

Stranger: Jesus, Sherlock not again. Are you alright? Don't worry about going out, I'll come around JW

You: No, you shouldn't. I'm walking to yours already. -SH

 

Stranger: Oh, okay. Do you want me to meet you, are you alright. JW

You: Of course I'm alright, John. I can take care of myself.- SH Sherlock knocked at John's door.

Stranger: John pocketed his phone and walked downstairs to open the door. He gasped when he pulled it open, revealing Sherlock's bruised and cut face. 'Jesus,' John breathed, taking hold of Sherlock's hand and pulling him inside out of the cold, shutting the door behind him.

You: "Missed you too." Sherlock scoffed, but took John's hand with no hesitation.

Stranger: John looked at Sherlock with worry and concern, anger rising in his throat. 'They can't keep doing this,' he spat, hatred filling his gut for Anderson and his 'minions'.

You: "John, don't get mad, please? Just forget about it." Sherlock gave a sympathetic smile and walked up the stairs to John's bedroom, expecting John to follow.

Stranger: John gave a small sigh, attempting to swallow his anger for later. He followed Sherlock up the stairs as he walked and flopped down on his bed. John stood at the door, sadness and worry in his eyes as Sherlock was faced the other way. He was becoming increasingly worried about Sherlock's health, physical and mental alike.

You: Sherlock turned to look at John, gesturing for him to join him on the bed.

Stranger: With a sad smile, John walked over and stretched out next to Sherlock, turning on his side to study his face. 'Sher,' he breathed, looking closer now at the wounds. His lip was badly split and his eye was beginning to form a bruise. 'Did they do anything else?' he asked, concerned for other pain they may have caused.

You: "Nothing permanent. But Anderson got me in the gut with his rather posh shoe." Sherlock muttered. "But like I said, forget about it." Sherlock brushed a strand of hair from John's eyes.

Stranger: After a moment of silence John sighed. 'For now,' he said, for now he just had to be happy that he had Sherlock, safe. He reached up and brushed the curls from Sherlock's forehead, moving further to run his hand through his soft locks. With a smile he remembered the first time he'd done this, it had absolutely shocked the two of them, not ready for the sudden intimacy. Now he had no trouble caressing the man he loved so much. 'I love you, Sherlock.'

You: "As do I, John. Or, am I supposed to say I love you too?" Sherlock looked to John. Oh god, that kick was getting to the worst of him. Oh, god. He turned to cough into his hand, his palm filling him bright red, he quickly tried to wipe it away, hoping John hadn't seen.

Stranger: John's eyes widened as he saw the blood that Sherlock tried to hide. 'Sherlock, what..' he stuttered, sitting up. 'Christ, why are you coughing blood,' his eyes were narrowed and he felt a deep fear in his chest. 'You lied, didn't you. What else did they do,' he demanded.

You: "Probably just a small fracture my pancreas or something, I don't know, I blanked out a couple times." Sherlock whispered.

Stranger: 'Sherlock, we need to get you to the hospital,' John said seriously shaking his head. 'They're going to fucking pay for this.'

You: "John, really, I can tell when I've been injured to the point of a hospital visit. It might just be a dry throat or something. Just stay with me." Sherlock grabbed onto John, wrapping his arms around John.

Stranger: John frowned, desperate to get Sherlock help, he couldn't let anything happen to him. 'Sherlock...' he muttered, laying back down and letting Sherlock consume him in his long arms. 'I'm worried about you,' he said quietly, his voice cracking .

You: "Don't." Sherlock whispered. "I promise I'm okay. I just want to talk. I am /not/ spending my weekend with some doctor in a freezing hospital bed. I'm perfectly fine here." Sherlock nuzzled his cheek into John's shoulder.

Stranger: John nodded. 'Okay,' he said, moving to wrap his own arms around Sherlock's torso, gently, careful not to cause any pain. 'You want to talk,' he repeated. 'Then talk, Sherlock. You can tell me anything, I'll try to help.'

You: Sherlock scrunched up his face in thought. "Why me?"

Stranger: John felt a pain in his heart as his stomach twisted. That was something that John could never answer, why someone would want to hurt Sherlock, why anyone would do that to someone like him. He sighed into Sherlock's chest. 'I don't know,' he stated, unable to think of an answer that would make Sherlock feel better. 'I don't know why they choose you, but there's nothing I would not do to stop them from doing it if I can help it.'

You have disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was another happy ending :D

**Author's Note:**

> NUU, Where'd you go ;-;


End file.
